And I worry, I never will again.
October 24, 2016
The title says it all. I didn’t sleep and I am worried that I won’t ever again. Last night as I was getting ready to settle into bed when the thing that has been plaguing me happened again. I spoke, and the person I was speaking too, did almost the action requested. I asked for the input button to be hit on the remote, to swap the TV from DVD mode to TV mode. But the person hit the wrong button. Was this a mistake, most likely. But instead of saying I hit the wrong button, they said, I thought the TV was off.
This, especially in the light of a new day, is not a horrible action, statement. But it’s one more example in a long list of examples of when I speak, asking a direct action, a different action is taken and the person I’m speaking to brushes it off as I’m the one who’s crazy.
I did blow up in the darkness of night, when I was tired, emotional and just needed to keep my mouth shut. And that led to my sleepless, tear-filled night. But no matter what, no matter how many times, I’ve turned this over in my head. I am not entirely wrong. I am wrong for blowing up, but my reasoning is sound.
What is so wrong with being expected to be heard. Whether it’s an email that I send to my girl scout parents or a request I make with my troop. A command I give my children. A favor I ask of a friend. Or a simple request I give my hubby because I can’t reach the remote. Why is the same reaction to my speech a belief that the other person knows best? Now this is where the hubby tells me I’m making it into something it is not.
With the remote, it could have been a simple miss hit of the button. But he didn’t say whoops, the wrong button. He says O I thought the TV was off. I wouldn’t have asked for the input to be hit if I hadn’t already reached the TV and turned it on. I would have asked for the TV to be turned on. There was a reason I asked for what I did. And I could be reading more into this, but why would he assume the TV was off. He made an assumption. Then he backpedaled and made me into the crazy person. That he had just hit the wrong button, but he said that he thought the TV was off. That I was making it into something more. Like because he made a mistake, I blew it up into something it wasn’t. But I know what I said. I know what he said. Yet, I’m the faulted party for calling him out? How is that right? How is that fair?
Yes, I know crying all night because a wrong button was hit is a bit crazy. But it was just another time, another example of how my words aren’t heard. My words are so easily dismissed it’s like they aren’t heard. I spend all day saying things that the four and three-year-olds just don’t hear. They do whatever they please. No amount of shouting, screaming, correcting or any other parenting technique seems to help. There there are these other people who tend my boys. Speaking over me when I’m dealing with them. Bribing them with treats when I’m trying to get them to eat lunch. Even their own sister will attempt to soothe them when I’m trying to parent them. Every other person, it feels, is against me when it comes to my children. My daughter has all these people whispering in her ears, that my words are lost. My husband is so absorbed in work, that the family has become second to him again. And while this seems full of self-pity and despair, I”m just really tired of being last in everyone’s life. I thought when I married, I have one person who would always put me first. But I’ve become last, lost and unimportant. What makes it all so much worse is I tried, I really did try to calmly state how I was feeling. How I felt dismal and he says that I have to find my own happiness. I do. I do. I am happy with my volunteer work, my reading, my blogging. This isn’t about happiness. This is about feeling like I matter, and that is a feeling I don’t have. My kids look to others because they have been taught too. My hubby looks to work, his phone. Their actions show me that I’m not valued.
And while this seems full of self-pity and despair, I”m just really tired of being last in everyone’s life. I thought when I married, I have one person who would always put me first. But I’ve become last, lost and unimportant. What makes it all so much worse is I tried, I really did try to calmly state how I was feeling. How I felt dismal and he says that I have to find my own happiness. I do. I do. I am happy with my volunteer work, my reading, my blogging. This isn’t about happiness. This is about feeling like I matter, and that is a feeling I don’t have. My kids look to others because they have been taught too. My hubby looks to work, his phone. Their actions show me that I’m not valued. Then he says he cares. And because he said it, I must believe it. But words lie. I work with words, I know how they can be shaped to deceive. I know how little they can really mean.
I writing this here because I literally sat up all night. I didn’t crash until 4:30 am. But no matter how I spin it I’m the person who has to give it all away. I had to give up my dreams of being a journalist because I had infants at home. No one was comfortable with leaving two infants in daycare. Too much time has since passed, I realistically do not believe in five more years, anyone will want to hire a person, who hasn’t been working in the field into the field. There will be too many fresh out of college with no attachments that will be a better hire. I have given my entire life to my husband and children, and instead of a warm heart, I’m left in the dust of their lives. Which really hurts. I hurt. And the worst part is, I’ve laid this all out, and while I know he won’t read, my blogs mean nothing to him or the daughter. Nothing will change. I’ll smash it down for a while. I’ll pretend it’s okay. But in a month or year, I’ll be right back here, at the bottom of their list. Carrying the weight of not mattering.